We’ve had another little snow hiatus. The Blizzard Warning begins soon.
Scott took advantage of the lull yesterday, and cleared off a few of the vital areas. You know, for the preserving of the structural integrity of the dwelling.
The house looks like this after his santa-shenanigans:
Probably a good thing for the roof, and those of us who dwell under it, but the piles all around have me wondering how the melt might affect our general… water-tightness come spring. Also, we’re definitely down one fire-escape. If you need us, come to the side door.
Yesterday, when the fit of preservation occurred, I was having tea–and by tea I mean cookies–with m’pal Kris. Yes, yes, that is indeed the Legendary Kris of Kris’s Dragon Spa and Christmas Letter Fame. Who else would it be?
Anyhoo, as we were inhaling the cookies, and the endless shoveling up top ceased, I heard the snow-blower fire up. Interesting, since that job is done.
Soon the rumble was closer to the house than seemed practical.
Yes, yes it was. Apparently that job wasn’t done.
I’m not entirely sure how he got it up the steps–although the steps are really more of a suggestion at this point–but he managed.
Me? I was hoping tonight’s blizzard and it’s forecasted ‘nother foot might bring the deck all the way up to full. I’m a little disappointed. How often to you get that kind of fun anymore?
My loving husband says I’m less disappointed than I would’ve been had he left it alone so we could watch the deck rip off the house after that foot.
I feel as though he doesn’t have enough faith in our construction abilities.
For now, we wait, with a clean and boring slate,